


Under My Skin

by twisting_vine_x



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU ending for 'The Hobbit', Bilbo accidentally stumbling upon Dawlin and Kili, Book Spoilers, Humour, Laketown, Little bit of angst, M/M, Romance, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisting_vine_x/pseuds/twisting_vine_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/N: Set while the company is in Laketown, and written for this prompt: “Now that Bilbo is his, Thorin wants Bilbo to have the mark of the line of Durin on him (AKA a tattoo).” </p><p>Summary: <i>“What would I do without you, Master Baggins.”</i></p><p>
  <i>“Be utterly lost, I presume.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Indeed I would be.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Bilbo had meant it with a bit of levity, but there’s nothing but seriousness in Thorin’s voice – and Bilbo finds himself shaking a little when Thorin twists out of his arms and turns around to kiss him again. Kisses him like he wants to crawl in under Bilbo’s skin and make a home for himself, and it’s all Bilbo can do to keep himself together enough to return the kiss, everything inside him going all hot and shaky.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under My Skin

When Bilbo slowly begins to wake up, it’s to the warmth of a solid body wrapped around him, and the scratch of beard against his back. He’s smiling, then, before his eyes are even open; and he carefully stays as still as he can, not wanting to wake the dwarf behind him. Thorin’s arms are tight around him, and his breathing is soft and warm against his neck, and Bilbo has a moment of thanking any gods that might be listening for the moment when Gandalf arrived on his doorstep with a group of dwarves in tow. If not for the wizard’s unexpected interference in Bilbo’s life, then Thorin and Bilbo would have ever crossed paths; and as Bilbo lies there, safe and warm on a giant bed that the people of Laketown had been kind enough to give them, all he can do is smile and close his eyes again. Thorin has nowhere he needs to be until lunchtime, and Bilbo doesn’t give a hoot about missing breakfast – maybe even second breakfast – if it means he can stay right where he is, with Thorin wrapped around him like he never wants to let go.

\- - -

When Bilbo wakes up again – doesn’t even remember when he’d fallen asleep – he’s lying on his back, this time, with the blanket pooled down around his stomach; and Thorin is lying propped up on an arm, shirtless, watching him in silence, with one giant hand spread across the naked expanse of Bilbo’s chest. For a second, Bilbo can’t breathe properly – because, gods, Thorin is gorgeous – and then he takes a steadying breath and puts a hand over Thorin’s, going shaky inside at the casual intimacy of it. Smiles a bit and loves the way Thorin’s eyes go soft in return.

“We’re late for your second breakfast.”

“Funny, I don’t much seem to care.”

“Am I that much of a pleasant distraction?”

“You know you are. And you enjoy it.”

Thorin’s lips twitch in a way that looks both pleased and mischievous – a look that Bilbo would have never believed the dwarf to be capable of, before this thing between them had started – and then he leans in to kiss Bilbo, and Bilbo can feel himself melting into it. Doesn’t give a damn about their less than stellar breath. Just threads a hand into Thorin’s hair and wiggles a bit closer, breathing through the wave of heat that sweeps down the length of his body, until Thorin pulls back to watch him, his cheeks flushed, and hand moving in small circles against his chest. For a second, there’s just the sound of them breathing, as Bilbo tries to not blush under the fond way Thorin is watching him – and then Thorin exhales in a way that sounds a bit disgruntled, and pulls away to slide his legs over the side of the bed, leaving the pale expanse of his back on display for Bilbo.

“While I would much prefer to spend the remainder of the day right here –”

“The mayor.”

“Yes. He is proving problematic. I’ll not have him sully our warm welcome here by spreading lies about our company.”

Bilbo can’t see Thorin’s face, but he can see the sudden tension in his shoulder, and hear the frustration in his voice; and he crawls up onto his knees and wraps his arms around Thorin from behind. Presses his bare chest up against Thorin’s warm back and brushes his mouth against Thorin’s neck – and it’s amazing how all the tension seems to seep out of Thorin’s body, as the dwarf leans back against him with a barely audible sigh, a hand coming up to rest on top of Bilbo’s.

“What would I do without you, Master Baggins.”

“Be utterly lost, I presume.”

“Indeed I would be.”

Bilbo had meant it with a bit of levity, but there’s nothing but seriousness in Thorin’s voice – and Bilbo finds himself shaking a little when Thorin twists out of his arms and turns around to kiss him again. Kisses him like he wants to crawl in under Bilbo’s skin and make a home for himself, and it’s all Bilbo can do to keep himself together enough to try to return the kiss, everything inside him going all hot and shaky. Holds on tight to Thorin’s shoulders until Thorin pulls away to stare at him – his eyes so fond that Bilbo can barely look at him – and then Thorin brushes a curl away from Bilbo’s forehead and turns to leave the room; and Bilbo stares at the empty doorway for a long moment before tipping back onto the bed again and closing his eyes, taking long and steadying breaths that do nothing to chase away the swooping feeling in his stomach. He’s never met anyone like Thorin before, and he’s self-aware enough to know that he wants to be in Thorin’s life for as long as Thorin will have him – and if there’s any chance that Thorin might reciprocate that, then Bilbo is definitely the luckiest hobbit in all of Middle-earth.

\- - -

A couple of hours later finds Bilbo creeping around Laketown, invisible, still feeling warmed straight through from Thorin’s declaration, as he tries to figure out what exactly the Mayor and his henchman have been saying about Thorin and the rest of the company. It hasn’t been very flattering, from what they’ve figured out thus far, and Bilbo is just about to head back to town – he’d been skirting along the river, looking for any kind of anti-Company clandestine meetings – when he hears what sounds like a yelp of pain. It sends him running in the direction it came from, until he’s into a grove of trees – hears another sound and follows it – only to stumble around a tree and –

Kili. And Dwalin. Naked.

Somehow, Bilbo refrains from making a sound that would have probably been close to a squeak. Backtracks as quickly as he can – only to trip over a damn root and go down, hard, on his bum. It isn’t a graceful landing, and it’s a testament to how involved the two dwarves are in each other that they don’t hear it – and then Bilbo’s climbing back to his feet with a silent groan. Is about to turn and leave – when he sees something that makes him pause. Manages to keep his eyes away from almost everything that’s going on – doesn’t want to do them the discourtesy of watching – and stares, instead, at the tattoos on each dwarf’s shoulder. Even from a distance, he can see that they match – and then Kili makes a sound that Bilbo has no business hearing, and he turns and scurries away from the scene as quickly as he can. Can’t stop the small smile, though, once he’s a safe distance away again – because as gruff as Dwalin is, and as young as Kili may be in comparison, if they make each other happy enough to have matching tattoos, then Bilbo can’t be anything but happy for them.

\- - -

Later that evening, Bilbo wakes up from a nap to find Thorin sprawled out on top of him, somehow managing to keep himself propped up in a way that keeps Bilbo from being smothered. Bilbo breathes through the way his heartbeat shoots up – thinks of Thorin’s earlier serious declaration, and swallows hard at how just the memory makes Bilbo feel like he could sprout wings and fly – and then wraps his arms around Thorin in return, loving the grumpy sound Thorin makes against his neck.

“I dislike many of the people in this town.”

“Some good ones, though.”

“Some. Not all of them.”

He sounds adorably disgruntled in a way that someone as gruff as him probably shouldn’t be able to pull off, and Bilbo can’t stop the way he’s grinning like an idiot into Thorin’s scratchy hair. Lets them lie there in silence for a long while – nothing but the two of them breathing, with Thorin a comforting weight on top of him – until Thorin finally props him up a little higher and stares down at him. Is back to doing that thing where he stares at Bilbo with such obvious affection it nearly hurts, and Bilbo swallows again. Thinks, suddenly, of the tattoos he’d seen earlier, and wonders if it’s some kind of dwarven custom, or something unique to just Kili and Dwalin.

“Um, Thorin.”

“Mmm?”

“Earlier today – I, uh. Stumbled upon Kili and Dwalin in the forest.”

“Did you, now?”

There’s a tiny little smile on his lips now, and Bilbo knows that he’s being laughed at. Can’t help the blush, and gives a little swat against Thorin’s arm, his sentimental heart tightening a bit when Thorin’s response is to smile a bit wider, his weight pressing down harder as Bilbo glares up at him.

“Yes, I did, and you can stop laughing at me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Liar.”

Thorin doesn’t deny it, and Bilbo lets his mock annoyance slide away. Rubs his hands over the spot he’d just swatted – keeps his fingers gentle against Thorin’s skin – and feels suddenly nervous. Drops his eyes down to Thorin’s chest, and tries to ignore the way his chest has gone all tight. 

“I – I just wondered –”

“Yes, Master Hobbit?”

“I – well. They have matching tattoos, I think? And, I mean, I’ve never even seen a Hobbit with a tattoo, let alone a couple with a matched set, so – is it a dwarven custom, then? To match? Or it is just –”

He cuts himself off, though, because he suddenly realizes that Thorin has grown more than a little bit tense against him. That, in fact, he feels like he’s about to vibrate clean off the bed with how tightly he’s strung; and Bilbo raises his eyes back to Thorin’s, and feels himself frown at the way Thorin clears his throat, and then drops his eyes down to somewhere over Bilbo’s shoulder.

“It is – dwarven custom, yes. Upon pledging your life to another, a mark is designed to represent each of the houses. Both dwarves then have that mark inked into their skin, as a sign of loyalty to each other.”

“So Kili and Dawlin –”

“Aye. I have never before seen such an unlikely match, but they care very deeply for each other.”

“I – so it would seem. I – that’s – huh. That’s rather sweet, actually.”

“You think?”

And now – wow. Thorin’s looking at him again, his face some mixture of a frown and what looks like poorly concealed hope, and Bilbo – goes very still. Can barely breathe for the way something seems to be taking flight in his stomach, even as his heart climbs up into his throat, because – is that something that Thorin actually would want? It seems – impossible, but Bilbo can’t help but hope – and they seem, then, to have a frustrating moment of just staring at each other, before Thorin clears his throat and slides down his body a bit, sitting across his knees and gently putting his hands on Bilbo’s legs, even as his eyes drop down to the blanket beneath them.

“If you – if we survive this, and you – I know the Shire is your home, but – if you wished to stay, here, in Erebor, or to – to periodically travel back and forth between here and the Shire, then –”

“Thorin –”

“That is – I wish to make this work between us, Bilbo. And if – my life is yours, if you want it. The mark is not necessary, but with what we face, once we leave here, I wish for you to know –”

But whatever Thorin was going to say, Bilbo doesn’t hear it. His head is ringing with, _my life is yours, if you want it,_ and he only realizes he’s more or less launched himself back on top of Thorin when they both go down backwards on the bed again, with Bilbo resting on his broad chest with his face buried into his neck and his arms wrapped around Thorin. For a moment, Thorin does nothing – and then a wave of tension seems to seep out of him, and he wraps his arms around Bilbo in return, pulling him in so tight he can’t breathe, and – gods, Bilbo never wants to let go again. Never wants to be anywhere but here. Nods against Thorin’s neck, and then makes himself speak, somehow, just in case his answer wasn’t obvious enough without words.

“I – _yes_. Yes, Thorin, I – want that, too. Gods, I – if you want me, then I’m _so_ yours, and – both houses, right? I mean, it’s not like we Baggins have a family crest, or anything, but I’m sure I could – create something, or –”

Bilbo’s words get swallowed up in a kiss that steals his air, as Thorin curls his fingers into his hair and gently guides him up from his neck, until their mouths are pressed together and Thorin’s doing that thing where he kisses him like he needs Bilbo to breathe. It goes on and on – Bilbo getting all shaky, and his chest all tight, and his stomach doing that damn swooping thing again – until Thorin finally pulls back with a smile that looks so happy it hurts – and all Bilbo can do is grin down at him, still barely able to breathe, as something inside him seems to sprout wings and fly.

\- - -

Later – many, many months later, when Smaug has been defeated, and Laketown has been rebuilt, and Bard has become the mayor, and Thorin is king under the mountain again – Bilbo ends up smiling to himself as he rides his small pony in the general direction of the Shire. They’re nowhere near his home yet – Dawlin and Kili are riding on his left side, and Fili is on his right, the three of them keeping him company on his long journey – but he’ll be home eventually; and one of the best parts of going home is knowing that, come spring, he’ll be going back to Erebor again. Going back to Thorin – who is finally sitting on his rightful throne – and as Bilbo remembers the gentle farewell kiss Thorin had given him, all he can do is rub his fingers in circles against his forearm, over the ink that links him and Thorin together. Thorin has pledged his life to him – has promised to stay with him for as long as they’re both alive – and Bilbo is definitely the luckiest hobbit in the entirety of Middle-earth.


End file.
